2018-01-03 20:05:59 (UTC)

Not so happy new year continued...

So, I believe I left off with my brother Billy's girlfriend Lauren calling me into their room not even ten minutes after everyone went to bed. I ran in and he was pasty white, blue lips, and sweating profusely. He wouldn't respond to me yelling or smacks on the cheeks. My dad came running into the room and Billy stopped breathing, so we got Lauren bawling her eyes out while dialing 911. My dad and I got my brother on the floor and he was performing CPR while I was keeping track of his pulse and getting him to squeeze my hand during his conscious moments. But we lost him for two minutes and I swear my heart just stopped right along with his. All this within an hour and a half to two hours of being home from prison. We kept him alive and by the time the EMTs showed up with the ambulance we were able to get him to sit up and he was so unfocused. I really wish I knew and understood the power, the hold that drugs have on people, but most especially my family. I have two brothers, a sister, and five cousins who are all hooked on one drug or another and Heroin is the absolute worst. We lost two uncles and two step-uncles to drugs as well. Why am I the only one who has this crippling fear of even taking more than a motrin if necessary? I want to understand but as my brother said at the hospital to me, my dad, and Lauren; we will never get it unless we try it. And we are way to smart to start that shit after seeing all the harm and damage that it has caused other family members throughout our lives. I want it to be over. I don't think I'm strong enough to keep watching them struggle and trying to help them when they aren't willing to help themselves first. You can't help someone who doesn't want to help themselves.
Okay, I'm mentally exhausted. There's more but I'm can't relive this day again so soon. Until later.